


Welcome Home

by Tasfanfics



Series: Welcome Home [1]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, Can work as a reader-insert, Caring, Crying, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Guardians - Freeform, Mental Health Issues, Reader-Insert, Soul Bond, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:49:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27633662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tasfanfics/pseuds/Tasfanfics
Summary: They hear the cries. They hear, and yet they can't move. They can't help. They can't do anything but pray she's got the strength to stay.
Relationships: Feyre Archeron & Original Female Character(s), Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Rhysand (ACoTaR) & Original Female Character(s)
Series: Welcome Home [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2020505
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, lovely readers!
> 
> I just want to give a quick DISCLAIMER in case you missed the tags. This fic deals with mental health issues and a brief mention of suicidal thoughts. If that is in any way triggering to you, please don't read this fic. Self-care is always the top priority. That being said, I hope you find comfort in this as much as I did writing it.
> 
> I will be speaking more about this fic and what my plans are for it in the end notes! Happy reading :D

They hear the cries. They hear, and yet they can't move. They can't help. They can't do anything but pray she's got the strength to  _ stay. _

Rhys first hears her when he's walking along the sidra with Feyre, arms clasped and smiles broad. It's a distinctly female voice, yet not Feyre's. Alarmed he is at first, checking for who may have gotten past his impenetrable mental shields, but he finds none.

The voice is weary and broken, and he feels the pain for a fleeting second. When he asks if Feyre's heard anything, she says no at first.

Two days later, Feyre hears the voice. She's giving a painting class when a distressed plea sounds within her head. The voice just asks for help, asks to be saved, asks for a sign that she shouldn't give up, and Feyre doesn't know what to do.

At night, she lets Rhys into her mind, asks if that's the same voice. When he confirms it indeed is, the worry starts to grow.

But then a few days pass, and they hear a faint laugh, a bit of joy. It's not consistent nor is it whole, but it's something.

It doesn't last long.

The pleas return. They can both hear her at the same time now, can hear her sob and heave and break. And then there’s frightening silence for a few days.

They go to Amren. They bring her her favorite pastry since she's become High Fae and ask her about what's been happening.

She shoos them out of her home, tells them she'll look into it, and just three days later, she's entering the townhouse, mood sour.

They're afraid.

"What's happening is very rare," she starts. "A mortal girl's soul is bound to yours the way a child's would. That explains why you can hear her occasionally."

"That's not it, is it?" Rhys asks.

"No, that's not it. That girl is in a different universe. She's not in Prythian or the mortal realm or the continent. Nowhere you can find her." She sits in one of the chairs. "Assuming you wanted to find her to begin with. I'm trying to look for a way to sever the bond."

"We don't want to sever the bond," Feyre says, brows furrowed. "We want to help her. She sounds like she's in pain." 

"Is there no way to communicate with her at least?" Rhys asks.

"I'll have to see what I can find, boy, but don't mess with things you don't know, understand? Both of you." At the couple's nods, Amren huffs and stands. "Try to send back thoughts and see if anything happens."

So, they wait. They wait for two weeks, and in that time, they send peaceful images. They tell her to hold on. They tell her that they want to help her, that they'll try.

On the fourteenth day, Amren comes through their doors again. She bears good news, perhaps not too good but good enough.

"You can't be physically there to help her, but you can send her things in an indirect way."

"What does that mean?" Feyre asks.

"You can send things of your essence, and they'll manifest in a way that fits in her world. In the books it says, you can send her a piece of jewelry, and it'll seem like someone got it as a gift for her as an example. And she'll always unconsciously attach the things you send her to you. They'll give her whatever message you send with them."

So they send a ring the first time, a ring that looks like a piece of the night sky had been put in it. They speak of how she must hold on, how the days will get better. 

They know when she receives it. She cries happy tears, speaks to the ring as if she's speaking to them. 

Months later, they've sent her many gifts, some in the form of friends, of nice strangers, of flowers, of more jewelry. She still cries, but now she laughs too. 

They grow to love her, so when she relapses, the world becoming too heavy for her, they rush to Amren once more. 

"I know you said we can't go to her, but is there no way to bring her here?" Feyre asks. That pain...she was familiar with it, that void of endless suffering. 

Amren has the decency to look sheepish.

It's Rhys who says, "What are you not telling us, Amren?" 

"There is a spell we can make to bring her here."

"But?"

"It's dangerous. That's why I didn't mention it. You're disrupting a timeline of events in both worlds. She has a family, a life, and others' lives - lives of those around her - are affected by hers.You can't just pluck her out and get her here."

"And there's no way to work around that?" 

"There could be, but only Helion can help you with that."

So they go to the High Lord kissed by the sun next.

He welcomes them, pours wine into their glasses, and when they tell him of their predicament, he sighs.

"Amren wasn't wrong, but not entirely correct. You  _ can  _ go get her, but all of your lives would be in danger. Only one out of a hundred tries were successful. As for the timelines, they'll fix themselves if you claim yourselves her guardians in front of a priestess."

"Why does this binding happen in the first place?" Feyre asks. "If the two parties can't meet safely, why bind their souls?"

"This usually happens when the mortals are at their wits' end and need a saviour. We act like guardians of sorts for them in the case of a binding."

Rhys peers at Feyre, asking if she wanted to do that. "When can we try, then?" 

"Are you sure she even wants to come here?"

"She asks for our help. She asks to be saved."

"Come back next week, then."

So they leave. They send reassurances, promises of helping when she cries again. There is a manic edge to her pain now, like she's been drowned in it for so long, she's started to lose herself.

After Helion prepares the spell and they thank him, the world ripples, and they're falling. It's almost like winnowing, but longer and much worse. It feels like the world is swallowing them and passing them through its very core.

But they make it. They find her in bed, curled in on herself like she wants to disappear. She's not breathing well. Too fast and not at all sometimes.

The second they step into her room, she wrenches her eyes open, and then she's sobbing in earnest. Half-relieved, they sense.

"Shh, sweetheart," Rhys says, sitting next to her. "We're here."

She clutches onto his hand, her own much smaller against his, and her eyes screw shut again. 

"I'm Rhys, and this is Feyre. We-"

"I know who you are," the girl says. He doesn't ask how. He simply rubs circles onto her palms.

Feyre sits next to Rhys, hands going to trace her cheeks, and she asks, voice soft and cracking on each word, "Do you want to come with us?" 

"I want to leave. I want to leave life," she admits. "I don't want to exist anymore."

"You can't, sweetheart. Not yet, but you can come with us. Back to Velaris?" 

She's quiet when she agrees.

Rhys cradles her in his arms. She reminds him of how light Feyre was in those months with Tamlin. "You're safe. I promise." 

With a few words, they're sucked back into the vortex of the worlds before they're spat out into the foyer of the townhouse.

"Welcome home," they tell her.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm planning for this fic to be a part of a series of one-shots that follow the OC's emotional and life journey in Velaris. That's why I created a series from now in case you wish to subscribe to it. I will not be giving the OC a name; at least I don't intend to because I want readers to be able to picture themselves in her place if they wish to (that's my reason for writing this fic in the first place, pure self indulgence XD) 
> 
> That's all for now, folks! Have a lovely day/afternoon/evening/night!


End file.
